Letter to my little one: For when you doubt my love

Good morning sunshine! Right now we are 12 weeks pregnant. That means that you have been growing for 10 weeks now. I’m still not feeling well yet, but I’m cherishing every moment I have with you, because I know how precious every minute is. If we haven’t told you yet, but I’m sure we have, you actually have 4 older siblings! You have your two sisters, Brooke and Emily, that you are well aware of. You also have your sister, Jordan, and your brother, Mason. We lost both of them before they were born and we miss them every day. So far, I’ve gotten to spend more time with you than I have with either of them. Thank you for hanging in there!

When we first found out I was pregnant with you, my doctor (who I adore!) told me that my blood work didn’t look good, and to be prepared that we might lose you. I was devastated. I sat in her office and cried hysterically, as she continued the conversation with another concern. If we did in fact lose you, she wanted us to take some time out from trying to have another baby. She was worried that I may not be able to handle another loss, mentally. I could barely wrap my head around the fact of losing yet another child, let alone not being able to try again for an undermined about of time. Luckily, your dad vetoed that idea. He knew how much we wanted you and taking time off wasn’t an option.

As I was waiting over an hour (and the longest hour of my life) to have more blood drawn, I asked your dad if we could let every one know that we were pregnant. I felt strongly that we either needed prayers, support, or both. He said to do whatever I felt I needed to do. Right there, at the doctors office, at 4 weeks pregnant, I told the world about you. I posted a message on Facebook for all the good thoughts and prayers our family and friends could muster. I told them how much I loved you and how I didn’t want to have to lose another baby. If you were going to go to Heaven, they would at least know the depth of my love for you, in the short time you were with us. At that moment I prayed a prayer I had never prayed before. I told God that you were His. He was in control of your destiny and that if he was going to take you, I’d let you go. I wouldn’t be happy about it though. I left this pregnancy up to Him.

I got my blood taken and the next day the doctor called with some good news. You were growing! Prayers and good thoughts continued to come in. My hormone levels were increasing the way they were supposed to, but we weren’t safe yet. I had blood drawn every day for a week. Each time the news was better and better! We made it to 6 weeks, when I lost Jordan- milestone. I heard your heartbeat and saw your picture- milestone. We made it to 9 weeks 4 days, when I lost Mason- milestone. We just made it to 12 weeks- milestone!

On Monday, your dad and I will get to see you again. It will have been 6 weeks since we’ve seen you last. You’ve grown a lot since then. They say you are about the size of a lime, but I don’t believe it. I check your heartbeat every few days, just to be sure, but you seem to be doing great! I can’t wait to see you, baby!

Now you may wonder someday, when did I first know that I wanted you. Well, always. There has never been a time that I questioned if I wanted to have kids or not. Not even for a second. I really knew and began thinking and planning about you when I was 14. I would watch a talk show called Maury. He had teens on his show that really wanted to have babies. They were trying hard to get pregnant and they were only the same age that I was! I really wanted you then, but I was smart enough to wait. I wanted to be married. I wanted to have a job. I wanted to be able to take care of you. No matter what though, I knew I wanted you.

When I was 18, I got married. I had a job. I joined the military. I was so ready to bring you into my life! I prayed for you every night and wished upon every star. God had other plans, though I didn’t know it at the time. I spent the 5 years that I was married waiting for you. My ex-husband was manipulative and abusive. It would not have been a happy environment for you, little one. Looking back, I’m glad you waited to come.

Fast forward 5 years and here we are. We have your dad and Brooke and Emily. Oh and of course the dog, Sam. He loves kids. He thinks he is one, actually. We have two angel babies in Heaven, watching over you. You are already so loved and have been for so long. Your dad is an amazing man and I can’t wait for you to meet him. You will love him so much. He is kind, caring, strong, hard working, and he wants you just as much as I do! We are so happy to have you, baby. You were wanted for so long, and now here you are. We are counting down the days until we see your smiling face. You are loved. You are wanted. You are a dream come true and an answered prayer.

Love Always,

Mom

 

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It’s a two parter!

So I suck at blogging everyday. It’s not that I’m not amazingly talented or super funny all the time. I just can’t put my thoughts into words very easily lately. I have had 3 job interviews and I go in very confident and I leave feeling like my IQ dropped 100 points in the interview room and I babbled like my 2-year-old niece.
Any who! It has been an interesting first 4 days of the year. I have only been to work 1 day this year which makes me smile every time I say that. As most people know we have not stopped fertility treatments. I took my Letrozole as prescribed days 5-9. I went to the doctor on day 12 which was yesterday. What happens is I get un ultrasound and blood work done. They check all the levels they need to. Progesterone, LH, and estrogen I think. I don’t know, I try not to ask. So yesterday, my doctor is still out-of-town on vacation and they have this “sub” ultrasound tech. She’s nice and all but she’s not my doctor. So they check my ovaries. Side note-I was concerned there would be no eggs because I wasn’t feeling the pinches I usually do on whichever side I am ovulating on. She checks my left side first. I immediately panic when I see not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5, but 6 follicles. NOW! Not every follicle will produce an egg. They have to be a certain size before they will pop out a mature egg that is viable for use. The size they should be is anywhere between 18 and 29mm in size and the ones on my left side were no larger than 11mm (this all depends on your doctor. Mine once let one get to 32mm before–no baby that month.) I was slightly unhappy but I realize that I am responding very well to this medication. She checks my right ovary. BAM! One big fat one! There were a couple little ones like on the left side but hey, 1 is all it takes. The nice big fat one was 19mm. The routine is to then get the hcg shot and ovulate and get inseminated the next day or do the wild thing for 4 days straight. This month my doctor said wait until tomorrow for the shot. For the last 4 months, these have been my exact results (minus the crazy amounts of eggs on one side.) I asked the girls why he decided that I needed to wait. They said that my numbers have been as close to identical as possible for the past 4 months and he wants to push it just a tad farther to get better results. So today I went back into the office (a 30 minute drive) and got another ultrasound and more blood work. You would be shocked to know that a follicle grows so quickly! Today the big fat juicy one measured 25mm. Go us! So I got my shot and informed the girls we would definitely be going forward with an insemination.
This means 2 things. Not only do the husband and I have to BBD for the next several days but he will have to wake up at about 6am and give me a sample of, what I call, my children. I will be at the office by 7am and they will “wash” the stuff and prep it for insemination. I like to say these sperm get a golden ticket. They pull a chance card and are allowed to pass go, collect their $200.00 and have fun racing to the finish line. There is nothing else to be done after this. I will lay on the table at the doctor’s office and go about my business…oh…and then start my 2ww. (I’m rolling my eyes if only you could see me…) So, there you have it. I will be inseminated like a cow only a farmer isn’t sticking his entire arm up my vag. A doctor gets to shove a catheter in there and splash me with a little Jeremy juice.

I told you this would be a 2 parter. It is but I really don’t want to write about this. I don’t believe dreams really mean anything except for your sub-conscience to make you paranoid while you sleep. I don’t really dream that often but when I do they are pretty rememberable. I know when I was pregnant I dreamt every night and they were such vivid dreams I would wake up and have to wake Jeremy up to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming.
Since I don’t really believe my dreams mean anything I don’t talk about them all that much. However, this dream freaked me out and I had to write it down. I couldn’t stop thinking of the baby we lost. I couldn’t stop imagining him. I couldn’t stop trying to picture his face or trying to feel how small he was or trying to hear him cry. Then all of a sudden he was there. Perfect and beautiful but I still couldn’t see his face. I could see his shape, his chunky arms and legs, his black hair and I could hear his little cries. I wanted to hold him but I couldn’t, someone was stopping me. I looked to see who was holding him and to talk some sense into them only to find out it was my uncle who had passed away almost 5 years ago. Sitting next to him was my grandfather smiling at him, speaking Hungarian to him and I understood everything he said. Next to them was a very dear family friend that just passed away last week. They were smiling at my son and telling him how amazing he was. Then my grandfather, who I never met because he died 8 years before I was born, said to me “We have him. He is ok with us. Your little boy is ok. Don’t worry. His brothers will come to you soon.” I started crying in my dream and said I want him now. I was told by my uncle that I needed to wait. He was needed with them and, again, his brothers would come to me soon. As they turned him around to show me his smile, this light almost blinded me and caused me not to be able to see his face. I told them I loved them all and I kept talking and was still crying. I woke up crying.
That has me completely freaked out. Like I said before, I don’t think about my dreams meaning anything but this was something I have never experienced before. I might need a psychic. I most likely need a psychiatrist. However, this gave me a strange feeling of relief. I felt this calm after I saw all of them with the baby. I know I only carried our son
until 10 weeks but he’s still my baby boy. And I got to see some folks I miss and love dearly.

So, there you have it. I’m insane. I have 2 weeks in front of me that I will be a nut job WARNING! WARNING! And I am in some strange way at peace now that my boy and my family are ok somewhere. So now, I will go make myself pancakes because they are calling to me. I saw them in a movie this afternoon and I can’t seem to get the taste out of my head. So excited for pancakes 🙂

***this is for Candi**** sorry for being a bitch on the phone. i don’t know why but i was and i apologize. i thought i would make it more public so you would believe me 🙂

Tips for TTC part 2

Good morning folks.  I come to you again with some crazy ideas on making your baby dust work and dreams come true…or at least try.  I have been doing a lot of research on a few topics that I would like to share.  They may seem like common sense but I didn’t think about them or know that they would really change an outcome.  Now, as I have said before, I am no doctor so this is all coming from my research, word of mouth and I give it to you with hopes that you will find what works for you.

I have a few of them today.
First one is absolute crap but hilarious because people were stupid enough to try this. This was an answer to a yahoo question about weird and unique tips for trying to get pregnant.
“Well, when my husband and I were trying (we now have an 8 month old girl!) he used to pull out and then roar between my legs..supposedly to ‘scare the sperm’ right to the top! I can’t vouch for its scientific merits, but it worked for us!”
I would say I want video but that’s not true. I could imagine telling Jeremy “hey, after you finish you should yell at my vagina because your sperm need a good roar to scare them. Kind of like a pep talk you know?”
I can’t stop laughing. People are stupid.

Here’s another tip: don’t ask how to get pregnant on yahoo questions. People are stupid.

I read somewhere, of course I can’t find it now, that as you near ovulation your urine gets darker. I have absolutely no idea if this is true but I am keeping an eye on this. I am currently on CD8. I go in on the 3rd to check for follicles (I’m kind of hoping there are like 7 that way there are 7 possibilities to make a baby. I have never O’d more than 3 on this drug though…) I drink almost only water. Of course I am guzzling coffee as I type this. I will report back to you on the color of my pee. Right now it’s pretty much clear. I only know when I’m going to ovulate because my doctor tells me or gives me a shot so I will know almost exactly when it happens. I am completely awesome like that.

Third one for the day. Don’t douche. Yes. This is something I asked my doctor because I wanted to make sure I could say with certainty you should avoid. Douching can wipe out normal, GOOD bacteria. It can cause the ph balance to go all wacky and make it even harder to get pregnant. If you think you may have an infection or something, call your doctor because getting any infection cleared up will aid in getting a bun in the oven as well.

This last one for the day is something that many people argue about. Elevating your hips after the sexy time. Fact number one: if you lay with your legs up in the air after sex your hips/reproductive organs are not elevated. Only your legs are. If you put a pillow under your bum then your hips are slightly higher. Legs in the air=pointless. Hips (ACTUAL HIPS) elevated=possible help. It is also a good plan to lay around “after” for 10 minutes or so. You don’t have to. You don’t have to have your hips in the air. We have tried everything in this department. Sometimes I just get disgusted and get up right away. I will say that after an iui in my doctor’s office they have me lay on the flat table for 5-10 minutes. I assume if it’s good enough for them it’s good enough for me.

I hope that gives you a few more things to “try” or more advise to ignore. Stay tuned for part 3. I’m thinking up some good ones 🙂

When “eating for two” means using two forks

Today we had an impromptu-ish mother and daughter lunch at Olive Garden. It was my mom and me, my aunt and her daughter (and her 2 daughters) and daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law’s mom, and me. My cravings with this pregnancy and the last has been salad with vinaigrette dressing, pickles, fruit, and orange juice. I’ve been waiting for Olive garden salad for about a week. When the salad finally came out- I ate 3 big bowls. I didn’t eat the ravioli that I ordered, just the salad. And it was delicious. Anyway, halfway through my salads I stopped for a brief second from shoveling food in my face, and when I looked down, I had two forks in my bowl. I had been eating with two forks. It was hilarious, but I was embarrassed at the same time. My lovely ladies cracked some jokes about feeding me and giving me extra forks, since I obviously, didn’t have enough.

Pregnancy brain does crazy things to a person. This wasn’t the first incident I’ve had. Funny thing is I can’t even remember half of them at the moment! Let’s see… Um… Oh!

  • I was driving Kristen to her husband’s work yesterday and she told me I was pregnant. I had to stop for a second and process what she was saying. I had forgotten.
  • I almost charged a customer $100 on a bill 2 weeks ago at work.
  • I forgot how old I was when the doctor asked. (This is a normal occurrence though.)
  • I confused the date for the family holiday party.
  • I forgot to add the photo for the Lotus Be giveaway today.

Who knows what’s going on at this point. Ask Kristen. She’ll have to be my brain for the next 7 months. 🙂

 

 

Hello Cracked Eggs…

Hi everyone.

Candi & Kristen asked me to guest post, so I figured “Hey, it’s Wednesday morning, why the heck not?” So, here goes…

A little bit about myself: *clears throat a la an AA meeting* Hi, my name is Trisha, I’m (almost) 35 years old and I am infertile. (Hi, Trisha!)

My story is pretty simple, though a bit different from Candi’s & Kristen’s – my husband, Michael, and I were married in October of 2002 and because of Mike’s reticence about having kids, we decided to wait a year before we started trying. During that year, we had to work out a few things between ourselves anyway. Anyway, so we waited a year, then started trying. Keep in mind that because we didn’t like condoms, we didn’t use protection at all and I wasn’t on the pill. Sure we’d agreed to wait a year but I figured if it happens, it happens. I was totally secure in my want of kids – Mike was just a little unsure, but I knew he would make an excellent father.

Anyway, we keep trying, keep trying, keep trying – nothing. We spent the time trying to get our finances in order (made the typical stupid mistakes with credit cards when we first got married), we work, go to school, graduate from college, get married, work, go to school, graduate from college (me this time), buy a house, etc. And nothing. Nothing happens. By this time we’re pretty sure there must be a problem so we finally hook up with a fertility specialist here in Akron.

Follow through with the typical testing, the blood draws (do NOT be afraid of needles if you decide to do this), etc. Then the doctor dropped the bomb – there is NOTHING wrong. Well, mostly. Mike’s boys are a little odd, but the “good ones” are plentiful – the doctor is stumped, we are too. So we do some IUI’s (inter-uterine inseminations) and by the 4th one we’re old hat at this – and yay, maybe this one worked?!

I was SO excited! I actually HAD a number – 5! Finally – I had the sore boobs, the bloating, etc.

But no. It didn’t stick. There’s a lot at the time that I could have blamed it on – almost 100% of the blame I felt at the time lay with the stress over the job I had at the time. By the time my boobs stopped hurting and the bloat went away, I’d gotten fired from that job. It’s safe to say that things are very different now.

This was 2 years ago….and time for a new adventure in the baby game.

Well, kids, this is where I stop for now (I gotta go to work…dang it). But more later, I promise.

OH, and as I go through and try to hash all of this out (with Cracked Eggs permission, of course) if anyone has any questions, let me know. As Kristen will tell you – I’m an open book. Just may take some time to get all the chapters out. 😉 Happy Wedsnesday!

Baby, I love you, but…

Captains Blog: CD42. 25DPO. hCG is continuing to rise. We are up almost to 2000 as of Friday’s blood draw. Let’s see. I had blood drawn Thanksgiving week, last Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and again today. I’m about sick of this junk. Baby, I love you, but I hate having my arms poked at every day.

I’m super tired. I sleep all the time. Except for at night. What is it? 1:00 am? I wish you’d get on the same sleep schedule as me. Baby, I love you, but I don’t like pregnancy insomnia.

Nausea is slowly creeping up. Last time I was pregnant my hCG levels were a LOT higher than they are now and I had really bad nausea/vomiting. Mason “Bug” Sombati got his nickname because I threw up on myself after eating an apple in the car. I was driving. I was 6 weeks pregnant. I told people I had a “bug.” Baby, I love you, but I don’t love feeling sick.

Headaches. I’ve had headaches just about every day with this kid. With Mason, I had very few and I was loving that aspect of pregnancy. I normally have headaches and migraines a lot, so the break was awesome. Not this time though. Headaches daily and migraines weekly. I have to watch what I eat. Baby, I love you, but I don’t love this pain.

Brain fuzz. My dad’s nickname for me on a regular day is “Goldfish.” I have the worst memory every and 3 seconds about covers it. Imagine my pregnancy stupidity at this point… Baby, I love you, but something’s are important and I have to remember them.

Hunger strikes. Not the kind of hunger strike where I just don’t eat. The kind of hunger that wakes me up at 3am after I have fallen asleep only 2 hours prior and turns me into a vicious tiger on the hunt. My normal go to snacks are pudding cups and graham crackers. Hey- who wants to cook at in the middle of the night? Baby, I love you, but I am going to go poor keeping up with my your appetite.

No one seems to be worried about this pregnancy but me. I’m freaking out. Freak-Ing-Out. So much so that I made *ing* a new word. I had a mini/micro breakdown today after I left the doctors office and they said as long as my blood work comes back good they’ll schedule me for more when they do my ultrasound in a few weeks… A few weeks?! I lost 1 baby at 6 weeks and another at 9. Well Mase was a blighted ovum, but seriously- get that probe in my belly and tell me there is an actual child in there. Sesame seed, apple seed, poppy seed- I don’t care how small it is I just want to see something other than a blank blob. Baby, I love you, but I can’t stand the thought of losing you.

Baby, my love for you started long before you were conceived. I dreamt of you. I wished for you. I prayed for you. I loved you. You’re brother and sister are waiting in Heaven and it’s all fine and dandy if you can’t wait to meet them, but please wait until you’ve done lived a beautiful, long life. Baby, I love you, but I feel so helpless not being able to protect you and make sure you are born.

Pregnancy symptoms sometimes suck. Sometimes I’ll get emotional and sick and angry and hurt and worried and tired and be pricked with needles and pass out. Baby, I love you, but and there isn’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you already, as my almost 6 week old little love.

Gallery

We are expecting: a nervous breakdown

This gallery contains 3 photos.

Anyway, the longer we are ttc, the more freaked out I get. Think about it. The first pregnancy you are happy and excited and minimally concerned for miscarriage. It won’t happen to you. Nope. You and your baby are invincible. … Continue reading

Give me the chocolate and I will only slightly harm you.

A normal woman has her monthly “visit” every 28-30 days, give or take a few days.  I don’t unless it’s medically induced. That’s the wonderful part of having PCOS (please read that as sarcastically as you choose.)  I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I “started” but I think I was 11 or 12.  From the jump it was never normal.  I never knew when it was coming.  I lived in fear from the time I was 8 years old when my mother explained what she used those sticky pieces of paper for.  I would go to the bathroom in 2nd grade and check every day because I was petrified I would have blood coming from an unholy place and then I would have a baby.  I don’t know how I missed that middle step of what makes a baby.  I think my mom left that part out.  I do, however, remember being at my grandma’s house one hot summer day getting ready to go to my father’s house in a cute little outfit of white shorts and a tank top.  I got out of the lake after swimming and when I went to change I saw red…literally.  I figured then life was over.

Here I am, 16 years later…it pains me to say that by the way…wishing I had a normal, reliable, regular cycle.  It may make this baby thing a bit easier.  The thought never entered my mind that being so screwed up in the reproductive area would result in difficulty conceiving a baby.  Since we began our journey of trying to get pregnant, my doctors have tried everything from Clomid and Provera to what we are doing now which is just Letrozole (Femara) every month and then my cycle restarts like clock work if I am not pregnant.  It is not, however, the same every month.  I don’t know how many women are going through what I am going to explain but if there is just 1 person out there then I know I am not just nuts.
(This is where, if you are my brother, you stop reading unless you already have and then if your wife is reading this you should gross him out with all of the gross details because I like to watch him squirm.)

Ever since losing the baby in June I have had ridiculously odd flows.  I went from having a d&c to not bleeding much afterwards which the doctor told me was weird.  He put me on birth control to keep my cycles coming in normal fashion.  Once that started I again had really light periods.  Then 2 months later I believe, it was like Hiroshima hit my pants.  I woke up one morning covered in blood.  I honestly thought I was hemorrhaging.  That was when the life altering, doubling over in pain cramps started.  I figured maybe I would have one bad one then I would be ok.  Boy was I wrong!  They seem to go in their own little circle of hell.  I have a really light one then a horrible one then a “normal” one.  Life still revolves around my uterus even when I am not trying to fill it with life.  I carry ample protection.  When I cleaned out my purse today I counted 6 pads and 3 tampons.  That’s not normal either but I really don’t know what to expect from one moment to another.

This month when I found out I wasn’t pregnant but my uterine lining was really thick according to the ultrasound, I figured it would be ugly.  Like the nastiest fight scene in 300 and it would last for what seemed like an eternity and I would be a millionaire after my husband bought stock in Kotex.  Again I was wrong.  I have no clue what is going on in there but I will tell you that it is complete and utter BS.  My uterus is a bitch.  Not only do I feel like I didn’t get a good flush and fill but I feel like I got screwed for December.  I am concerned that because it’s not all out of there I will have no luck trying this month and I will have the worst cycle on Christmas.  Merry freakin’ Christmas baby, you aren’t gettin’ any.
I have talked about this with my fertility doctor.  He has a penis.  He only looks at vagina.  He thinks I am insane.  I think he is an ass…sometimes.  I think it may be time to revisit the subject with him but it concerns me that he will want to do another biopsy on my uterus.  If you have had one of those done, you know why I have a severe panic attack at even the mere thought of that procedure.  It feels like a red-hot poker stabbing you in your most precious of areas and then radiating pain all the way into your chest cavity.  This all happens in about 4 seconds but it’s enough to make you want to kick the doctor in the face while simultaneously vomiting on the person holding your hand.
So, we are back to square one.  We decided to go ahead with trying again this month with just the pills again.  January 1st our medical stuff restarts and we will be able to actually “afford” treatments…the ones that will probably land me in jail because I will become a raging lunatic on hormone shots every day for a month.

Anyway, that is my rant about my monthly.  As every other woman in the world does, I hate it.  I wish I could pull a Michelle Duggar and just keep on poppin’ out the babies and get TLC to follow me with a camera to show how amazing I am at being a mother to my 19 kids and counting…but I got screwed by genetics or probably by my fat.  Today I blame my fat.  I leave you with this amazing image.  It describes exactly what my house is like for approximately 3-7 days a month every month until I get so lucky as to get pregnant and STAY pregnant.  And then I will just keep on making that happen because I would rather push a watermelon through a tiny hole than bleed every month.  It’s late, I’m rambling, Good night.

Hcg bakeries?

When I stopped by Candi’s office on Wednesday to take her a Chalupa (because I’m a good friend like that), we were discussing how I am not sure if I can afford to do fertility treatments next month because finances are super tight right now.  The extent of what I would do is take my Letrozole and get an hcg shot and Jeremy and I would bbd as often as possible.  There are many factors of why I didn’t want to actively try in December…1st is that I was due in December and my heart feels like it’s about to explode.  Every pregnant woman I see, talk to, or hear about makes me sad.  So sad I can’t even talk to people I am super close to because I get so upset I start crying at the thought of them….like I am doing right now at my desk in my pjs.  2nd issue is that the way my cycle falls, I will have my test to find out if I would be pregnant or not just a couple of days before Christmas.  It ruined Thanksgiving for me so why not ruin Christmas right?  3rd issue is that it’s freaking expensive!  This would be the cheapest we could get away with having to pay but it’s still close to a couple hundred bucks after meds, copays, shots, and other drugs.  As we all know, coming up with extra money at the end of the year with the holidays is always difficult.

Whoa, way off topic….
Anyway, we discussed what the course of treatment would be and I told Candi that the main thing I would have to get was an hcg shot to make those fat juicy follicles release beautiful eggs to make my fat beautiful babies.  I explained to her that we would have to find some pregnant chicks (not hard right this second) that would pee in cups so we could make the hcg shots.  Apparently, it is not common knowledge that the hcg shots that we get have hcg that is extracted from pregnant women’s urine.  This is no joke.  I wiki’d it…hahaha.  So, with this new fact, Candi has chosen our new business venture which I think is foul and disgusting but if it worked….I might try it.

Hcg Bakery.  We take the hormone and bake it into brownies and cookies and cheesecake.  Then you become super fertile.  I haven’t done much research on the hcg holding up in an oven or in a mixing bowl but we may figure it out.  I did see that the FDA said the “hcg diets” were fraudulent so maybe they know something we don’t and in fact hcg goes GREAT with brownies.  We also have an idea for a baby farm-more on that later-but that would aid in our collection of hcg.  It’s a win win!  I did tell Candi that I will refuse any baked good she offers me from now on.  We know enough pregnant people, I wouldn’t put it past her to try to get some hcg from them for me…
This also has me considering a line of liquor.  The “hcg shots”…hahaha GENIUS!  Patent pending! 🙂  In all of 5 seconds I just created the advertisements and my target demographics.  I really should have gotten a college degree and done something with all of my genius ideas.

All right.  That’s enough for the day I think.  Consider yourself lucky that your best friend isn’t trying to feed you pregnant woman pee laced baked goods.  However, be jealous that my best friend would take a pregnant woman’s pee and lace baked goods with it so I can have a baby and not be such a psychopath.

Hormones and the 2 week wait

My doctor told me once that my hormones were out of whack.  I knew this before I spent $30k on fertility treatments but I’m glad he noticed.  Since we lost the baby in June of this year, we were unable to “try” again to get pregnant until my hcg levels reached 0.  It took almost 3 months.  In that time span, not only did my body completely revolt but it decided to add new and unwanted hormonal effects.  We started trying again in late August and I only did ovulation induction pills.  Everything else we figured we’d try on our own.  Of course…no luck.  September rolled around and we tried again only this time my body told me to go screw myself and my follicle, or egg, turned into a massive cyst.  Luckily it disappeared and didn’t stop any further attempts at getting pregnant.  I went back in October and after taking the medications later in my cycle was shocked to find I had 3 follicles.  2 were good size and 1 was small.  In a panic I set out to gather funding to pay for the hcg trigger shot and 1 iui.  I thought “This is it!  2 at once and we are no longer paying this doctors mortgage!”  Unfortunately that too did not work.  That brings us to this month.

Let me backtrack a bit.  If you are going through ANY kind of efforts trying to conceive, you know your stress level is outrageous.  Anything added on top of that makes your chances of conceiving that much worse.  You know that every pinch, tug, twinge, pull, stabbing pain or ache makes you hopeful.  You fantasize for 2 weeks after “trying” about this miracle that could be growing inside you.  I hate that part.  I get my hopes up and my heartbroken every month without fail.

So, this month, we are trying again.  I had 1 follicle that was 25mm.  That’s a good size.  I had my appointment on Friday and OF COURSE my doctor was out-of-town.  Due to that, I had to wait to get results on blood work to see where I was sitting as far as ovulation goes.  I had gone about my day and in the middle of a chiropractor appointment I get a phone call from my RE’s office saying “Doc says you are ready and he wants you to have an hcg shot.  Can you be here now?”  I panic.  Of course I rush my chiropractor along and race back to my RE’s office to get stabbed with a syringe full of pregnancy hormone.  Normally, that medication does not bother me.  I get no side effects and I barely know I had the shot until I feel ovulation happen.  This time was a different story.  As I drove home I received a call about a job interview.  I was so taken aback by this call saying they needed to interview me right then that I may have freaked out.  I had 1 hour and 35 minutes to get ready and drive an hour for the interview.  When I got home I found that my suit pants were missing.  Immediately this is my poor husbands fault.  I flew into a rage and tore the house apart looking for my pants.  He finally braved the storm and came up to help me look and he immediately went to his dresser.  My exact words were “Do you think the effing laundry fairy magically put my damn pants into your dresser because she so freaking stupid she didn’t know whose ass those belong on?”  At that moment my life was over.  I was in hysterics.  The smart man I married said “I love you and I am going to work.”  I screamed a little more and then moved to my dresser where sure as hell I found my pants right where I had put them the week before.  I texted Jeremy and told him I was sorry and then Candi called.  I released my rage on her and then immediately felt like the biggest jerk in the world.  Now, this shot makes me crazy.  Just great.

So now I sit and wait.  I am in what is known as the dreaded “2 week wait.”  The only significance to this is that I have to wait for 2 weeks from the day I received the hcg shot to find out if I got pregnant.  We didn’t do any artificial insemination.  We only did the deed and hoped that everything swam into place.  I try to compare how I felt when I actually got pregnant to now and I can’t.  I don’t remember how I felt.  I honestly don’t remember feeling any different than I did on a normal day.  Right now, I don’t care.  That may sound wrong but I know that the stress of worrying about everything that is now out of my control does not help.  The test will either be negative or positive and then we go from there.  The only advice I can give to people is to try not to care.  That sounds even crazier but if you can find something to occupy your mind instead of sitting and wondering, you stand a better chance of having a better out come.  I know that I still care.  I worry.  I panic.  I am nervous.  I am petrified.  I also know that if this month is negative I can try again next month.  Not everyone has that knowledge.

All of this trying and waiting is horrible.  Candi and I are both waiting.  We are practically in sync with each other and can probably find out the same day.  Either there will be much rejoicing or a lot of crying and bitching about our bodies.  I also know that everyone has different experiences.  I am curious to hear about yours.  It’s something that is difficult to share about but one of our goals for Lotus Be is to get people talking.  So, to all of you trying to conceive right now, baby dust and good thoughts to you all.  To all of you still waiting for the ok to start trying again, even more baby dust and hugs and support.  We all got dealt a raw deal.  All of us will make amazing mommies one day and until that day comes we need to build a strong support system and stick together.  I have had people look at me like I am crazy when I say I want to make infertility and miscarriage something that is talked about as much as any other disease or problem people face.  Stand up with us and help us break the silence and shout “My reproductive organs are here, we’re jacked up, help us fix it!”

I would also like to ask if you will please excuse my insanity for the next few weeks.  My uterus and I are in deep conversation and I tend to get loud and obnoxious.  I yell at my uterus sometimes hoping that will help give it some motivation to stop pissing me off.  Again, I am hormonal and insane so please exuse me.